by Nako
Teka dragged the covers over her head as she felt herself getting emotional all over again.
This wasn’t her at all.
She was from motherfucking D.C. She didn’t weep easily.
Moses sat on the edge of the bed and snatched the covers off her.
“You think I can survive without your love?”
Tears streamed down his face.
He would lose it without his sweet thing. She had to know that.
Fifteen
Need you for my sanity. Need you to remind me where I come from –SZA
You’ll never know pain until you experience it yourself.
You’ll never know what loss feels like until you bury a loved one, someone you really cared about and cherished.
You’ll never know how it feels to mourn a friend, until you and your very best bitch stop speaking.
You’ll never know betrayal, until someone crossed you out or stole from you.
You’ll never know what a broken heart is until you watched the man or woman you loved show you that the feelings weren’t really mutual.
You’ll never know what a ripped soul is until you can’t sleep at night. Finding yourself crying throughout the day because life is hard. Life got hard. Life wasn’t always unicorns and popsicles.
Shit gets real.
In short…
You’ll never know what ANYTHING feels like until it’s YOU.
Until then…keep your mother fucking comments, feedback and unwarranted opinion to your damn self.
In the midst of a storm, Tia realized that she could never ever in life speak on how another person should feel, accept or react to anything.
Because one would never know.
Seeing her baby suffer…because that’s exactly what he was doing.
Suffering.
He was suffering in the NICU every day.
She wanted to tell the doctors to let him go, but out of fear of being judged…
Fear of being looked at crazy, she didn’t say anything.
Instead, she cried for him.
Tears of pity.
She blamed herself for this matter.
She prayed for his peace.
Her baby seemed as if he was in distress.
He was so doped up.
This wasn’t life.
She wiped her tears away and said, “Amen.”
Being home wasn’t any better.
Her children didn’t understand why their new brother’s whose arrival was heavily anticipated hadn’t come home yet.
She got out of the chair the best she could.
Her body was still in excruciating pain.
The emergency caesarian section surgery that she was rushed into almost took her out.
She survived.
However, it was quite difficult for her to be thankful for another day above ground when she hadn’t had the opportunity to hug and kiss her son yet.
Tia’s mind was in the clouds.
She was trapped in a daze and every day that she visited and sometimes stayed overnight with her newborn, she was pushing herself further into a dark hole.
Tia felt numb.
She knew that she got up and performed her womanly duties.
…she fed her kids.
…. took them to school.
…. did laundry, tidied up the house.
…attempted to work but nine times out of ten, she ended back in a daze.
Her and Juice were barely communicating, and she didn’t know why.
Surely, they weren’t blaming each other. There weren’t any words exchanged between the two besides simple pleasantries.
He returned from the bathroom as soon as he left her mind and asked her, “Ready?”
They took turns spending time with him since it was only one chair.
The NICU was a pretty packed place.
Every day, a baby entered, and a baby exited via death.
It was a sad room.
When she would get home, she would lock herself in to the bathroom, turn the music all the way up and cry her eyes out.
The kids didn’t hear her, but her husband did.
He was helpless.
They drove in silence. Once they got the interstate that led them to their estate, he asked, “Want to grab something to eat?”
She whispered, “Your mother cooked.”
Tia spoke so low that he couldn’t hear her, so he asked again, “Babe, you hungry? We can stop and get some food.”
She took a deep breath, “I’m fine.”
Juice still didn’t hear her.
“Yo! Are you hungry?” by now, he was frustrated.
“I SAID YOUR FUCKING MOTHER COOKED!” she screamed from the top of her lungs.
He was so taken back that he almost swerved into another lane.
The car honked at him which infuriated an already annoyed Tia.
“LET ME OUT!”
She felt like she was losing her mind.
“I want to get out,” she needed a second to herself.
He knew she was tripping but he at least wanted to get her home safe.
“We’ll be home in a second,” he brushed it off.
“Juice, let me the fuck out,” she was cursing more.
Snapping on him for no reason.
This wasn’t his Tia.
It was a red light and she looked at him. He didn’t make a move, so she unlocked the door and got out, saying fuck traffic and walked across the street and down the sidewalk.
His patience was thin.
He was hurting too.
Juice got over, causing more cars to honk at him for the sudden move and slapped his hazard lights on.
He drove beside his grief-stricken wife, “Can you please get back in the car?”
“I want to be alone.”
He wanted her to get back in the car, “Okay. I’ll let you be, Tia. I’ll clear the house tonight or you can go to the condo or a hotel. Baby, please get back in.”
She ignored him and kept walking.
“Tia, this is crazy. Please come on.”
Cars were blaring behind him.
He was famous and wasn’t vocal about his private life which included his family. Social media somehow caught wind of what’d taken place and they’d been trying to capture as many photos of them as possible.
Paparazzi wanted to snap them looking sad and shit.
She had to cut it out. This was entirely too much right now.
“My mind…my heart,” she was talking to herself more than him.
Tia felt like she had boulders attached to her feet.
She was boggled down by so much.
Her baby was alive… but barely.
It was a devastating situation and she couldn’t find an ounce of gratitude for nothing in the world.
Her spiritual leaders encouraged her the best they could, but it went through one ear and out the other.
Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning.
Don’t get weary in well doing.
He may not come when you want Him but He’s always on time.
Call Jesus, He’s on the mainline.
None of that made her feel better.
“TIA!” he wasn’t playing with her this time.
Juice was a few seconds from hopping and yanking her to the car.
She gave up and walked back to the vehicle.
The backseat felt safer for whatever reason.
Although, she knew that Juice would never do anything to her.
She cried the whole way home.
Wailing.
When they made it, he cut the engine, removed his seatbelt and cried too.
η
To successfully re-launch a business. A company. A brand…or whatever you called what you were most passionate about took proper planning and the right amount of execution.
Out of the house, well Neezy’s bed, by nine thirty each morning was her ultimate goal. She really felt as if she’d wasted funds by
renting a place because she was never there. Nor, had she even began to order furniture.
He casually suggested that she utilize it by turning it into an office. Best decision ever.
With one bedroom being off-limits for her son returning to live with her, Carmen camped out in the living room. She ordered a desk and chair on Amazon Prime and got down to business.
Meetings with graphic designers, bloggers, up and coming designers and wardrobe stylists were scheduled for tomorrow.
Secondly, she would sit down and interview four people to hire for publicity.
She wanted to come back and let everyone know that The Showroom may not be bigger, but it was definitely better.
It felt as if she was starting everything over from scratch. In order to keep from herself from feeling defeated or with a lot to do, she posted affirmations everywhere and burned loose sage.
As soon as a negative thought tried to set up residency in her mind and plant other seeds of foolery, she immediately casted it out.
She had to stay focused and it was the only way The Showroom would launch again.
The mind was a terrible thing to waste and once a person was able to train their mind to only think and expect the good out of every situation, then and only then will you begin to live a meaningful life.
She sang along with Jhene Aiko about being triggered although she was far from that.
Carmen was sprung like hell.
She was in love and loved, it was a beautiful feeling.
One she didn’t take for granted.
“You always know what to do with it,” she rapped lowly as she checked her email.
Her phone vibrating caused the music to stop, she smacked her lips as she flipped her cell over to see who was hitting her line.
It was her baby.
Every time he called; her insides melted.
“I’m at the door,” he let her know.
He’d knocked three times then called, figuring she couldn’t hear.
Carmen got up to let him in.
He came with food.
“Wow, you know me too well,” she shook her head as she stepped aside so he could enter.
“Thai, your favorite.”
They both were grinding right now, and it was a balance.
Support came first and then understanding.
He warned her that his time would soon be extremely scarce, and she promised him that she would be fine.
Carmen was aware of what she signed up for when they linked.
Her baby was on the verge of becoming a superstar and she was about to place her name back on the tips of everyone’s tongues.
She was optimistic for the both of them.
Every detail about the steps being made towards his career was exciting to her whereas he could care less.
Neezy was extremely nonchalant, she had to remind him that his dreams were coming true.
Then and only then would he crack a smile and nod his head followed up with a “true that.”
“It’s huge in here, we should move.”
She looked around, because she wondered what was he seeing that she didn’t. Carmen enjoyed being at his loft way more than her condo.
“Really?”
He nodded his head.
“Probably because it’s still empty, a table and couch will swallow this room out.”
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she was indeed, starving.
“You must’ve heard that I was hungry, literally.”
Her little jokes were so corny. He still laughed at em’ though.
“Come on, let me feed you.”
She followed him into the kitchen, he opened the bag and pulled the contents out.
“I’m going to need to get a bed here for when I want to take a nap,” she yawned.
“Just head to the crib early,” he told her.
“I can’t. Girls Night In tonight.”
She was actually looking forward to it and would be more hyper if she caught a few hours of shut eye.
“Oh yeah…” he didn’t remember but acted like he did.
Carmen reached on her tippy toes to kiss the bottom of his lip.
She tugged on it and then stuck her tongue in his mouth.
The sight of him did things to her body.
She was now hungry for something else.
He knew what she was on and he was on it too.
Nehemiah swiped the food down the counter and lifted her atop the granite.
Their tongues intertwined as their hands roamed over their bodies.
In a matter of a few seconds, the temperature of the room changed.
It was piping hot and her pussy was popping.
She wanted her clothes off and him inside of her.
Time was of the essence since they would most likely dock this session into the “quickie” folder.
“Fuck me,” she panted once their lips unlocked.
Carmen was his good girl.
His butterfly. He knew she was once in a cocoon.
So, when she talked like that she woke the monster in his pants.
Her brown eyes ogled his body which also caused his dick to harden.
Her entirety made him feel sensational.
“How you want me to fuck you?”
Every now and then she would talk that hot girl shit. Giving him demands. He liked it too…loved, when she stepped up to the plate and took what was rightfully hers. Carmen could have him whenever he wanted. He would gladly fuck her with no remorse or make love to her beautiful body.
Every time their bodies intertwined, it was nasty and freaky.
Never planned. Their randomness was what kept things hot and spicy.
Plus, when you had a strong chemistry like theirs…anything could go down.
She licked and tugged on his bottom lip.
“I missed you,” she admitted.
Even a few hours apart drove her stir crazy. Their energy was matched. Carmen never had to question where his head or heart was.
“I missed you too baby,” he said as he removed her clothes then his.
Her body was a temple and he worshipped it with adoration.
He took everything about her serious.
Even as his hands warmed her skin, he did it with passion.
Her breathing increased and she wanted him in the worst way.
“Baeeeee,” she whined.
He knew she wanted it.
“I got you, I got you,” he promised as he pushed her legs open and kneeled before her.
Eating her pussy was a skill.
See, Carmen was delicate. You had to treat her with care although she came with no label warning or instructions, he knew what to do.
With one large lick, his tongue was able to cover her from the top of that pussy to her ass crack.
He stuck his tongue there and moaned.
“Hmmmmmm,” she screeched loudly, stroking his ego.
Low-key, mommy liked when he played with that ass.
It was forbidden for most couples.
Every hole was accessible and available for Mr. Walker.
Carmen began to hump her lady parts against his face.
Smothering his features with her thighs.
She was sure that cum was pouring out of her tunnel.
Her skin was tingly.
Neezy slurped her and sucked profusely.
Pulling her clit into his mouth and toying it with his tongue.
He loved eating her pussy, it was like a holiday.
She screamed his name loud enough for her new neighbors to hear.
Hours later, she’d not only had some bomb sex, but they crashed right on the kitchen floor for hours.
It was the best afternoon nap she’d ever had.
Carmen walked into the Huffington’s residence, singing and twirling.
“Hi divas!” she greeted them, happily.
Everyone looked at her oddly for two reasons, one, she was late and baby, Carmen Kincaid was never late t
o anything. She was raised on the notion that being on time was late. She preferred to arrive five minutes early to peep out the scene.
The second reason was that she was glowing.
Was the old Carmen back?
Demi smiled, “I want whatever she on.”
It was their new insider joke, every time one of the ladies were extra turnt they would say, “I want whatever she on.”
The joke was created after a tabloid ran about Giselle and Teka being coke heads. It was the most absurd thing any of them had ever heard.
“Molly.”
Mahogany said, “Percocet, that’s how they make me feel.”
The women shared a laugh and Carmen said, “I’m on cloud nine.”
She Diddy-bopped into the great room where everyone was lounging and socializing.
“I’m late and y’all still ain’t ate? I shoulda stopped and got me something,” she complained.
Nia wagged her finger, “Trick, the food been done. You know Girls Night In starts on time. Ladies, let’s end cocktail hour with a toast,” she eyed Carmen who stuck her tongue out at her.
“I’m here now, yes, let’s get it.”
As always everything was done up real nice. Nia put a lot of pride and thought into her Girls Night In’s.
During a recent interview that she did with Gayle King she shared how her infamous monthly get-togethers with her tribe made her feel.
“Before you answer that question let me say I can’t stop looking at your ring, Jesus Christ how many carats is it?” Gayle took her glasses off, got out of her seat and kneeled near Nia’s hands. She picked up her hand and said, “This is a diamond, well diamonds,” she praised the jewelry.
Nia blushed, awkwardly.
“I have no idea. I barely wear it; I prefer a simple band because I’m often around so many people.”
“You guys have matching tattoos, right?”
Nia nodded her head, “Tons.”
She giggled.
“Are they in appropriate places?” Gayle kidded.
Nia said, “I plead the fifth.”
Gayle went back to her seat and grabbed her journal and a stack of laminated cards with questions.
Nia Hudson was the one doing the interviews these days. It was rare that she sat down on anyone’s couch for a chat.
Her life was public, and she wasn’t interested in offering any more than what was already being seen.
“I wanted to ask you about your girl’s night in, they’re like famous! Me and Oprah need an invite.”